Would you either be an osteologist, a physical anthropologist, or a zooarcheologist (spellings and meanings checked, yes) or the like, if encountering skulls and bones are your everyday? Or you’re probably dead, in which case, it is some small comfort if you stop reading this right here.
But what initially seems an extraordinary obsession with the dark side in ‘Man and the Skull’, a series of narrative illustrations by Clyde D’ Mello and curated by Ravi Cavale, will leave you bewildered with its turbulent tints of emotions ranging from the routine to the repressed. And perhaps, you progress with viewing each of the pieces only to be hurtled back into a kaleidoscope of timelines known within a life cycle, spurred by Clyde’s illustrations in pen and ink and the occasional daub of colours, and writing; very raw and personalized in its fluidity and echoing the experiential journey of exploring the roots of coffin making by his grandfather.
Also, it seems fascinating that skeletal structures can be remnants for hundreds of years, long after the dead are buried, decayed and gone, remnants with no life of their own, and yet present as physical tangible entities, proof of the living. Can it be a representational dialogue between the states of life and death? And perhaps, what lies in between? Do they let you confront and shake off certain fears? And in the entire process, does it immortalize the very idea and question of the cycle of life and death itself?
Waking up to the horror of your own reality, and the realization of the dark truth of itself buried somewhere within is probably what will leave you shocked.
Or will it?
‘All are parallels, and yet there is nothing similar.’